Haunted
by storygirl420
Summary: When Richie Ryan died Methos lost the only immortal lover he ever had. 26 yrs later a woman in Paris claims 2be Richie reincarnated. Can the guy’s save her when an immortal from her past is after her…more importantly will she let them?


Author: Jeanine Stice

Title: Haunted

E-mail: M Contains content suitable for mature teens and older.

Sequel: maybe, if I get enough encouragement.

Character listing: J, M, DM, RR, A, OFC Keaira Cael,

Summary: When Richie Ryan died that night at the racetrack Methos lost the only immortal lover he ever had. Now 26 years later a young woman surfaces in Paris who claims to be Richie reincarnated. The only problem is she wants nothing to do with them and just wants her own life back. Can the guy's save her when an immortal from her past is after her…more importantly will she let them?

Authors notes: (Hey you, reader, yeah you. You do know this is just and excuse for the writer to…write?) Warning this story contains references to male/male relationships and gay sex….kind of. You'll understand when you read it. It also contains references to child abuse in its varying forms. Contains Rape.

Disclaimers: I don't own Joe, Methos or the Highlander concept, DDP does. Truthfully the gang just followed me home one day, I fed them and now they won't leave. I make no money from this, just the enjoyment of sharing.

Thanks: To the readers, you make it worth my tight neck and sore shoulders from sitting at the computer for so long. To my parents, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here! Thanks to Mr. Miller and all my muses.

Feedback: It is my sustenance as a writer, how else will I GROW.

Highlander Haunted

Chapter One Burning Darkness

26 years after the Series Finally

Keaira Anne Cael stood in the rain in the middle of a Paris cemetery staring down at the headstone of a man who'd died decades before she was even born. No one she'd ever met was related to or knew the man whose body lay in this grave she had no foreseeable reason to be standing there. No reason for the tears mingling with the rain on her cheeks or for the large gaping wound in her heart. Yet there she stood feeling as if her chest had been ripped out as she read the name written there in stone over and over again.

Richie Ryan the carving stated the image and moment when she first laid eyes on it forever ingrained in her head. She felt her knees giving out and feel kneeling before the headstone resting her forehead on the cool stone while her fingers traced the letters of the name carved into it. Everything in her entire life changing in that one moment as she kneeled in the rain at the tombstone of a man she had never met who'd died long before her existence. The wind howled cutting threw her as the storm over Paris continued to rage almost as if it was an externalization of her pain and torment.

It had started for her twenty-six years ago when she was born and apparently promptly abandoned. Adopted into a happy family six months later, sole survivor of their slaughter thirteen years after…the story had made national headlines. 'California Teen Avenges Family's Deaths Surprising Killer in the Act' she had been the talk of the globe for a short while. She'd come home late the night it'd happened and was in her room when he broke in. She'd heard the sounds of her adopted father fighting the man downstairs and getting killed by him.

Her adopted mother had hidden her in their bedroom closet and tried stop him with the bat. He'd seen it coming and she'd watched hands over her mouth while the only mother she'd ever known was slaughtered close enough to hear as the damage was done to her body. She'd listened to the sounds of her mother being mutilated while she huddled in the closet with her eyes firmly shut hands over her mouth. When he walked out of the room she'd sat for a moment rocking before slowly climbing out to stand for a moment trying not to see the lifeless form at her feet that had been her mother.

She'd picked up the bat to defend herself with listening as the killer stormed around downstairs. She'd heard the unmistakable scream of her father downstairs full of agony and barely kept herself from running back into the closet to hide. Somehow she didn't think the killer would leave before giving the house a thorough search so she continued moving slowly and quietly as she could downstairs. She listened to the sounds of her fathers pain filled screaming and the sounds of him being cut and beaten knowing as long as she heard that she knew where in the house the killer was.

When she inched into the living room she was crouched low and was pleased to note that the killers back was to her as he kneeled over her father bloody knife in one hand. Her fathers pain filled eyes lighted on her for a moment in hope before turning away as she slowly inched forward bat raised high in trembling hands. She forced herself not to react to the sight before her, only allowing herself to act. Just before she met the bat with the back of his head the killer glanced back up at her in astonished surprise the last thing he saw was her and the bat hitting him in the face.

She'd beaten him until he no longer resembled a person screaming a hysterical battle cry over him when finished. After she insured he was dead she grabbed the cordless phone and pillowed her fathers head in her lap calling for help. He'd stopped breathing long before the police arrived and she was silent in shock and covered in the blood of her parents and their killer's. She was bounced from home to home in Foster Care after that too troubled for most of the parents to handle.

She had always been strange even before the killings only for different reasons. Ever since she was a small child she'd had memory's that weren't her own, about another child…a little boy. He was an orphan like her and had a much harder life his adopted mother died when he was five. At first her parents thought it was something like an invisible friend only slightly different.

As she got older so did the boy and her memories of him and his life. It was like they were growing up together only living two different lives. Her parents began to get concerned as it continued when she got older going so far as to send her in for professional help. When nothing could be found wrong with her and it continued her parents began looking into other explanations and came to the agreement that it could be a case of past life regression. When they asked her she declined to look into it and find out if that could be the case, she was ten at the time.

After her parents' deaths threw each new home the recalls continued moving ahead for the boy. It wasn't until she was seventeen that she thought that it was all in her head and she really was nutz. Things she started to recall were so unreal that it couldn't be a past life recall…could it? As she got older her surety of this fact hardened until she was twenty-four and everything changed. She recalled the unreal death of the man she'd known as well as herself and felt the betrayal of it as keenly as he did.

Determined to end this thing once and for all she'd taken a trip to Paris and…nearly lost her mind. Everything she'd remembered about the place was true adding a couple of decades of time on the city and it was the same. She found the barge, and Joe's Le Blues Bar still surprisingly running. She'd gotten drunk that night but not at Joe's at the hotel bar before calling it a night.

The memories wouldn't leave her, they haunted her every step and she began to get desperate. She found her self-seeking out his grave and after a bit of digging found it before heading straight there in spite of the weather. So there she knelt tracing his name carved in stone remembering each moment of his life as if it had been her own. Because in a strange way it had been her own, his regrets now her own as well as his memories.

So many things crystallizing and coming clear to her at that moment that she didn't know where to start or where to go from there. If it was all real not just to her but the rest of the world…what did that mean? Immortality, Watchers, the Game and Quickenings really existed? It was just all too much to wrap her mind around that she didn't know if she was capable of it.

Pulling in a shaky breath she forced herself to get up and start moving so she could get out of the rain before she caught herself a death of a cold. She ignored the disdainful looks of the man behind the front desk in the hotel thanked the usher who offered her a towel before heading up to her room. She sent her soiled cloths and the towel down to laundry and took a hot shower before ordering some food and trying to decide what her next step would be. She had proved that he existed which meant it was _all_ real but what did she want now?

Her own life, free of the haunts of someone else's past hurt's regrets and losses. She wanted to stop having nightmares about an abusive childhood and death that wasn't hers and dreams about a love affair that wasn't hers. The only thing she didn't know was how to make it stop because ignoring it so far had only made things worse. Changing she told herself she already knew the best answer to that she just didn't want to hear it. So when the driver of the cab the front desk called for her asked her where she wanted to go she sighed and had to force herself not to chicken out.

"Le Blues Bar, please." She told him before leaning back in her seat.

When she walked in the bar was hopping with life and she stilled with the eeriness of it when she found the place looking almost exactly the same as Richie Ryan remembered. She slid into the nearest free table after she saw the men behind the bar aware she needed to sit down before she fell down. She ordered herself a beer barely paying attention to anyone but the two men behind the bar.

The older gentleman was in his late sixty's at least he still looked so full of life and energy. He had blue eyes and peppered gray hair and beard moving around with the help of a cane. Behind the bar with him was a younger looking man with playful green eyes pale skin and short dark hair. She knew both their names and history's and everything weighted on her heavily as she sat there watching the two of them.

She remembered how close Richie and they had been closer even then he and his teacher were. That Methos and Richie especially had gotten closer then Duncan MacLeod was aware of and the only person who knew was Joe. What she didn't know was what had happened after Richie's death with the millennial demon. Obviously the 'Highlander' had saved the day again his barge was still around though she hadn't seen him.

Then something happened at the bar that caught her attention Methos stilling and glancing towards the opening door before a small smirk graced his features. She smirked knowingly and looked towards the door wondering if the obviously friendly immortal was anyone she'd recognize. It was Amanda dressed to kill as usual and she rolled her eyes at the sight knowing she'd never be caught dead in a dress like that.

Looking down at the beer she'd just emptied she decided it was time to go before she saw MacLeod. She was sure now he had to be around still if they were all still here, the Clan Mac had made for himself. No way they would've managed to stay together otherwise Mac was the heart and soul of it all whether he knew it or not. So paying her tab she got up and made her way back to the hotel to sleep hopefully dreamlessly.

He had so many regrets as he watched the blade coming for his neck somehow knowing nothing was going to stop it this time. Third time was the charm wasn't it? His teachers katana had come for his neck two times before that and stopped he wasn't lucky enough to survive a third. This was something Richie Ryan knew innately but he still tried to stop it…and couldn't something not allowing him to so much as move in his own defense.

_He'd never told Methos how much he loved him, never told Mac the truth about their relationship. He'd been too much of a coward too afraid of the rejection he was so used to and always waiting for. So Methos had complied when they had gotten closer keeping it between them so understanding about all of Richie's large hang-ups. Even not pushing him in the bedroom when he had problems due to his abusive past. He'd never even got to feel Methos inside him._

_Nothing he could do but regret so much as he watched the sword fall hungry blade glinting on a light. He knew his eyes were wide in horror and knowing…his end had finally come. He was going to leave Methos alone and he couldn't do anything about it, but regret. He loved them all and he was going to miss them so much…even MacLeod._

She sat up heart pounding sweat dripping as she panted and ran to throw up in the bathroom. Finally emptying her stomach she wiped her mouth and sat back her hand on her throat with the remembered feel of a blade…slicing threw it. She shot forward to throw up more before finally finishing brushing her teeth and rinsing her mouth out. She hopped into a cold shower before slowly heating it up until it was near scalding and she sat under it arms wrapped around her legs as she rocked and cried on the floor.

After breaking down she ordered herself some breakfast drying off and combing her wet hair out. She picked at her breakfast and sighed trying to figure out what she was going to do with her day. Getting online she checked out her accounts and made sure everything was taken care of for the next few days. She did a little surfing before turning the computer off with a sigh and forcing herself to stop ignoring it.

She had a serious problem she had to face one she'd been ignoring most of her life. Richie Ryan had stolen her life and she wanted it back, it was hers. The nightmares and dreams were ruling her and she needed that to stop so she could rule her own damn life. It didn't seem like such a big request on her part seemed rather straightforward and very understandable. All she knew was right now she was really starting to hate Richie Ryan.

She found herself back at the bar that night at the same table as before ordering another Beer. Methos was at the bar while Joe sat onstage playing the old man nodding along to the music. It was hard not to stare outright at Methos so she tried to force herself to keep her eyes trained onstage. She could feel a stirring of longing inside of herself for these people, Methos most of all and felt so torn and confused. She wanted so much to have these people in her life but to do that would seem to let Richie win and give over her life.

"Hey beautiful, how about I buy you a drink?" A man said approaching her table.

"Thanks, but I've already got one." She said raising the beer in her hand.

"How about I get the next one?" He offered putting a hand on the back of the chair opposite her and leaning into it.

"Thanks but that's quite alright." She replied politely.

"A dance then?" He said motioning towards the dance floor.

"Don't dance." She replied smoothly.

"You really think I'm going to buy that little missy?" The man said angrily. "Who doesn't dance?"

"Me. I just told you." She replied tersely.

"Right. Or maybe you just think you're too good for me? Little piece like you." He said leaning forward over the back of the chair aggressively waving the beer bottle in his hand about spilling it here and there completely unnoticed by him.

"Look Sir, I came here for a drink not company so how about you look else where?" She said motioning to the half full bar room.

"Why you little prissy cunt." The man growled.

"That's more then enough I believe." Came sternly from behind him and her heart stopped instantly.

She didn't even need to look up to know who had come to her rescue but she did glance over a few feet to see Methos standing there before her. Her belligerent drunk glared angrily at him still leaning an arm on the chair.

"Me and the little missy were having a conversation." He said angrily. "Ain't none of your business."

"Actually it is, seeing as I'm the co-owner of this place. I'd say your harassing one of my customers is very much my _business_. Why don't you take yourself home and possibly find yourself welcome here some time in the distant future." He told the man in a commanding voice.

"Me and the bitch ain't done yet." The man said.

"You may not be but I am." She told him sternly and he growled before tossing the beer at her only barely missing her as she ducked and it smashed into the wall behind her. She was up and out of her seat in a second Methos now standing behind the man with his arms pinning them behind him in a hold as he restrained him. The man was fighting him and she shot forward grabbing his throat in one hand and squeezing bringing her face within inches of his her eyes burning with rage.

"That _wasn't_ very nice. I've been very polite thus far; if there is one thing I abhor its rudeness. I suggest you take a lesson from this before you go harassing girls again…especially if you happen to see me. You _don't_ want to see me when I'm rude." She growled before letting him go. By this time he was turning blue and trying to struggle uselessly in Methos' hold while his oxygen was cut off to a point where unconsciousness beaconed.

After she moved away Methos began dragging the man towards the door and she sat back in her seat not sure exactly what had just happened.

"You alright sugar?" Said a familiar husky voice asked and she looked up to see Joe standing their leaning heavily against his cane.

"Yes, it's never boring if nothing else." She offered with a small smile.

"There's a girl." Joe said smiling at her warmly.

"Everything alright?" Methos asked walking back over to them.

"She says it's never boring." Joe offered him with a smile Methos smirking down at her.

"How about coming over to the bar where we can protect you?" He offered playfully.

"Really I'm fine here no need to go to any trouble honest." She assured them not sure she wanted to get that close to them.

"Yes but he certainly will go to trouble if you insist on staying here. Poor Adam will be forced to go running between the bar and this table while he's flirting with you when he should be behind the bar helping me the whole time." Joe explained to her.

"Guilt huh?" She asked looking up at Joe with a half smile.

"Guilt." Joe assured with a single nod.

"Good strategy." She told him with a sigh standing and picking up her purse and jacket. They led the way employee's cleaning up the mess behind her as the crowd parted allowing them threw to the bar.

"I'm Adam Tyler and this is Joe Dawson." Methos told her handing her another beer once they were around the behind the bar.

"Pleasure, Keaira Anne Cael." She said offering them a short smile.

"Beautiful name Keaira." Methos told her and she smiled over at him.

"Thanks." She replied.

"So your from the state's right?" Joe asked her.

"Yeah, California." She told him with a nod.

"Lovely weather." Methos told her and she nodded.

"So what brings you to Paris?" Joe asked her.

"Vacation. Thought I'd see the sights." She told him with a shrug lying easily.

"I'm honored our little bar was part of your visit." Joe told her with a warm smile.

"It's a lovely place, with lovelier company." She told him with a smile.

"I'm really sorry about that Neanderthal back there." Adam told her and she gave him a small smile nodding at him acceptingly.

"It's alright really. One could almost consider it all part of the bar experience." She assured.

"Yes well we'd prefer if it wasn't part of our bar's experience." He told her and she smiled over at him understandably. "So what do you think of Paris so far?" Methos asked her later about a half an hour from closing sitting beside her at the bar.

"Too many Parisians." She told him making him laugh the sight and sound causing a stab of pain in her heart as it brought to mind over a dozen memories of similar laughter.

"That bad huh?" He asked her.

"I meant what I told that brute earlier. I abhor rudeness and it's true what they say a lot of Parisians are rude and snobby. Can't help it if it pisses me off." Shoe offered with a shrug draining her beer bottle.

It was at that moment that the Methos drew up short and glanced at the door an instant before it opened. A second later he smiled at whoever it was and nodded before turning back to her.

"Keaira I'd like you to met a friend of mine." Methos told her warmly and she turned in her stool expecting to see Amanda again. "Duncan MacLeod, meet Keaira Anne Cael." Methos introduced them. Her whole world ripped out from under her and she felt like she was falling and Mac was falling after her his Katana marking the leading edge of the fall towards her neck. Terror suffused her body and she broke out into a cold sweat her heart thundering in her chest so hard it felt as if it were trying to break out.

If anybody said anything else after that instant she wasn't aware couldn't hear anything but a howling in her ears as if she were in a wind tunnel. She felt small helpless hunted and worst of all weaponless the thought making her almost physically ill. All she knew as she sat their swimming in her seat was that she couldn't stay had to move…to run.

"I…I have to go." She said hopping up and throwing her coat on purse in her hand. She thought she heard something behind her but didn't let herself stop to investigate it just kept moving.

She wasn't paying attention to where she was going was just instinctively moving forward down the streets. She looked around when she realized she didn't know where she was. She didn't see anything familiar, but she did see things that Richie found familiar…she had been heading in the direction of the apartment Methos had stayed in during their time here together. She sighed shaking her head as she stood in the middle of the sidewalk wondering just what the hell she was getting herself into.

"Keaira?" Methos called coming up behind her with a quick pace. "Are you alright?" He asked her in concern and she forced herself not to laugh. "You seemed a little shaken back there."

"Yeah, it was a bad memory." She told him honestly.

"Look it's not safe for you out here alone at night on these streets. Why don't I give you a ride to your hotel room?" He asked her.

"Sure." She said after a moment's hesitation.

She would have preferred to take a cab but she knew for that she'd have to go wait in the bar for it to arrive. She couldn't be in the same room with Mac at the moment so this was really her only option because she was not stupid enough to attempt to walk or flag down a cab this late. The ride to the hotel was quiet Methos dropping her by the front door, calling to her before she could walk inside.

"I hope we'll be seeing you again at the bar before you leave. It was a pleasure meeting you Keaira." He told her warmly.

"Thanks Adam, pleasure meeting you as well. Thanks for the ride." She told him before moving inside her hotel.

That night she tossed and turned in bed unable to sleep solidly until she finally got up just after dawn and ordered her breakfast. After eating she went around looking at the sights and playing the tourist stopping at a sidewalk café for lunch before continuing her sightseeing into the late afternoon. It was early evening when she found herself back at the graveyard drawn to Richie's headstone for some unknown reason. She stood beside the headstone worrying the top with her fingers when she lost herself in thought for a long time.

"What are you doing here?" Asked a cold voice that drew her up short questioned. Methos was standing there, flowers in hand icy alien gaze on her and she felt suddenly very cold. She moved a step back and Methos was there free hand wrapping around her bicep and taking a firm painful hold. "Answer me." He hissed and her breath came out shakily as she recalled the talk Mac had with Richie about the Four Horsemen seeing Death in the look he was giving her now.

"Please. I just…not here, please." She said voice small and weak.

How was she going to explain this to him? She'd lie but she couldn't think up a good one and panic was quickly settling in. Cold green eyes narrowed on her and kneeling the flowers in his hand were placed reverently on Richie's grave and she realized why she'd been drawn to his grave tonight…it was the anniversary of Richie's and Methos' first night together.

Then the iron grip on her arm was ruthlessly pulling her threw the graveyard yanking her about like some child's play toy. She suppressed most of the hisses of pain as his long legs gave him an unfair advantage so she was constantly falling behind and apparently in need of being literally yanked forward. Her bicep was sore and she was sure bruised by the time she was led to Methos' car and put inside Methos slamming the door closed once she was in. He didn't say anything as he got inside and instantly drove her to Joe's making her heart sink.

He was just as ruthless on her arm as he pulled her inside the bar where Methos motioned to Joe and Mac before dragging her into the office in back. A moment later she was closed in the room with the three men Joe sitting behind his desk while Mac sat on the couch and she and Methos stood between them in the room his vice like grip still on her bicep as Methos explained to them.

"She was at Richie's grave." Methos told them.

"What?" Mac said in confusion.

"Why?" Asked Joe. They all looked at her but all she could see was the cold gaze of Methos before her.

"Well?" He asked her coolly.

"I…"She said throat closing as she tried to force the words out. She closed her eyes and swallowed sure this was not going to go over at _all_ well. "You're all familiar with reincarnation?" She stated more then asked opening her eyes to look at the floor. "Most people call it reincarnation, or past life recall. I have it. I remember everything, every moment of Richie's life…as if it were my own." She told them.

"What!" Mac cried angrily in shock jumping up out of his seat. She never would admit it to anyone but at that moment she almost pissed herself in fear. Not that anyone should blame her she had memories of this man trying to kill her twice and succeeding the third.

Suddenly the vice like grip on her bicep was gone almost as quickly moving to her throat to cut off her air and force her back into the nearest wall. Cold alien eyes drilled into hers filled with hate and death tears of pain slipping down her cheeks against her control. Mac was there the hero as always trying to pull Methos off her but he couldn't the grip was solid.

"If this is some kind of game or trick I will make you regret it before I kill you." He said coolly face millimeters from hers. He let her go and she slid down the wall coughing as she caught her breath taking small controlled gasps until she could speak.

"I have no doubt, Methos." She told him glancing up at the man now standing as far away from her in the room as Mac could pull him.

Mac needn't have bothered she was up and out of the office as soon as she could move not stopping to call a cab. This time she flagged one down herself to get to her hotel ordering ice for her neck and chilled vodka and ice cream after having some soup for dinner. After dinner she got ready for bed crawling in tiredly getting herself comfortable. A few moments later she was crying into the pillow she hugged to herself and buried her face in not stopping until she was sound asleep.

Chapter Two, Regrets and Remorse

She woke up the next morning feeling stuffy from crying herself to sleep and called downstairs to check her self into the spa for a full treatment hoping it would take her mind off things. And it did for a time with a Cosmo and her mp3 player while she was pampered and massaged. She was unsurprised to find that her arm was bruised and her throat had a rather noticeable handprint sized bruise. Surprisingly she got no comments from the spa only suggested treatments for them.

When she finally got back upstairs it was lunchtime and she ordered up from the restaurant eating a quiet meal while she looked out at the city skyline. It was about a half an hour after that the knock at her door came and she sighed knowing it was only one of three people if not hotel staff. She stood brushing off the skirt and adjusting the sleeveless shirt she was wearing while she lounged around today and thought. She wasn't sure if she was surprised or not when she opened the door and found Methos on the other side of it looking uncertain.

They looked at each other and she was keenly aware as his eyes took in the bruises that were easily visible in what she was wearing guilt crossing his expression.

"I've decided I'm more then a little surprised to see you here. After the bar." She stated after a brief pause.

"About that…I'm sorry." He said looking up at her with apologetic eyes and she sighed.

"Yeah, right. I'll just tuck it away with all the other shit I should just get over magically. Anything else?" She asked him.

"I was hoping to talk." He told her.

"I'm afraid I'm busy packing." She told him shortly instantly coming to a decision.

"What do you mean?" He asked her.

"I've decided I've had enough of Paris. I accomplished what I came here for and it's long past time for me to leave. Before all of this shit blows up in my face." She said moving to close the door. Methos pushed it opened stepping inside and closing it behind him eyes looking angry again and she backed up uneasily.

"Just like that? Your just going to drop that bomb last night and disappear?" He asked her in angry disbelief.

"In case you don't recall _you_ gave me no choice." She stated coolly. "I didn't plan to say a damn thing or even talk to any of you. I just had to know!" She said angrily.

"Know what?" He asked her.

"What do you think? If it…he…all of you were _real_! I had to know if it was just all in my crazy head!" She cried angrily.

"Don't you think you should stick around for a while more?" Methos asked her sadly. "I mean if what you said is true…shouldn't you _want_ to?" He asked her.

"Don't." She told him coolly meeting his gaze with an icy look. "I'm not_ him _Methos. I'm _not_ Richie. I'm Keaira Anne Cael damn it and this is _my_ fucking life. That is the only reason I came here, to try and reclaim the life that should always have been mine." She told him angrily. "So…yeah apparently I'm having past life recall about a man who loved you. But you know what? You love him Methos and right now…I hate the son of a bitch. He's haunted me my entire life and I am fucking sick of it. So _no_ I don't want to be anywhere near any of you because if I do that then he wins and I'll be living _his_ life and not my own." She told him moving for the door and opening it. "Please leave." She told him looking out at the empty hallway.

"Richie-" Methos started only to cut himself off and she jerked her head over to look at him with narrowed eyes aware of the look of shock and horror on his face.

"Get out." She told him cold eyes not leaving his. "Get. Out." She said when he didn't move. Finally he moved out the door stopping outside to turn as if he had something more to say but she didn't give him the chance to slamming the door closed.

Shaky with the feelings overwhelming her she stumbled into her room and began to throw things into her bags. She stopped when they were half full sitting on the floor and sobbing until she could gather control of herself. Getting up she called and ordered herself a ticket to Cali on the next flight available before hanging up and sighing. Going into the bathroom she cleaned herself up before sighing and sitting back down on the bed next to her half full luggage. She picked up the phone and with help from an operator managed to place her call.

"Le Blues Bar Joe speaking." Answered the gravely voice when the line picked up the sound almost instantly making her smile.

"Joe this is Keaira, I'm glad you were the one to pick up." She told him.

"Keaira, I'm surprised to hear from you after talking to Adam." Joe told her honestly.

"Did he tell you everything that happened?" She asked him.

"You mean about the slip Keaira? He feels just awful-" Joe started but she cut him off.

"I know Joe. That's not why I called, I wanted to talk to you." She told him.

"What about kiddo?" He asked her and she smiled at the familiar nickname before frowning as she realized it was Richie's memory before rolling her eyes at herself. "I'm sure you know I'm having issue's with the fact that I have to share my life with Richie's. Part of the reason I came here was to prove it was all in my head, what a laugh huh? So I'm leaving and going back home to try and regain my own life while I still can. I just can't seem to do that without saying goodbye to you though." She told him leaving so much unspoken and hoping Joe would too.

Richie and he had been close friends and Joe had been like a father figure or uncle to him. Richie usually went to him for advice when he was afraid of Mac's judgment and it had grown into a good friendship. Whenever Richie was leaving town he always made a point to stop in at Joe's and have a drink with him before leaving.

"I'm here for you kiddo, so long as you don't mind a boat load of questions." Joe offered with a chuckle making her laugh.

"Just don't promise I'll answer any of them. The main reason I called before hand was the fact that I didn't want to run into Mac or Adam while I'm there. I'd much prefer if it was just the two of us." She explained to him hoping he'd understand.

"If that's how you want it. Adam and Mac are at the barge right now, discussing you I believe." Joe told her and she smiled, it would be perfect timing then.

"Alright then Joe I'll be there soon. And Joe…I'm trusting you not to set me up here." She said before hanging up the phone and sighing. She knew she should have just dropped it fought the urge and left without seeing him but this was just something she felt she had to do.

So she finished up the rest of her packing after changing for the night and put her bags in the living room. Grabbing her things she met the cab she'd called for outside before taking a quiet ride to Joe's. Paying the cab she sighed as it drove off and she stood outside staring at the building for a moment before going in. She was about to find out how much her new friendship with Joe mattered to the man and see if he set her up, as she stuffed her hands into her pockets and made her way inside threw the crowd and to the bar.

Joe saw her coming smiled and waved her to the familiar table grabbing the bottle of scotch and two glasses without hesitation. She sat slumped in the chair as she waited for him happy Mac and Methos seemed to not be here. Joe groaned as he lowered himself slowly into the chair across from her before he poured them both a few fingers of scotch.

"To friendship." Joe offered raising the glass in toast.

"To friendship." She seconded clinking their glasses gently before taking a strong sip.

"When's your flight out?" Joe asked her.

"Early morning." She told him staring into her glass. "Sooner the better." She said more to herself.

"Is it really that bad being here?" Joe asked her.

"Joe he's haunting me and I don't even know the man. Never met him. I'm tired of regrets that aren't mine, fears that aren't mine, nightmare's that aren't mine. I'm tired of reliving a death that isn't mine over and over again." She said the last coming out almost choked and making Joe start. "Yes I feel a pull towards all of you but damn it _all_…I want my own life. The more time I spend here with you all the stronger it all gets and I'm going to drown inside him and lose _myself_ if I don't do something." She said voice coming out strained and tired.

"I'm sorry it's all so hard for you." Joe said looking at her with sympathetic eyes.

"So am I Joe. We'll see if this whole trip was a wash soon though. Once I return home and find out if things are a little more normal for me or just as bad or …gods forbid worse." She explained.

"Where is home?" Joe asked her. So she described her home and the life that was waiting for her on hold.

She stumbled outside an hour later to meet her cab after assuring Joe she was fine. She breathed in the brisk night air of Paris feeling right at home thanks to Rich. She looked around and found the cab to be a little late and began strolling over to stand near the street. That was when she heard the crunch of gravel under feet behind her and she spun to see a man standing in the shadows of the bar slowly stepping out into the light. Sparkling mad eyes and a wicked smile on his face she felt her stomach plunge and her heart stop sobriety hitting her in the face like a cold hard backhand.

"Lovely to see you again little one. I see you don't have your trusty bat this time?" He said before moving forward for her.

Eyes wide in terror she back peddled but not fast enough as he shot forward hand wrapping around her throat to squeeze it painfully cutting off her air. Wheezing in the teasing breaths he allowed her as she struggled in terror and he raised his blade from his coat bringing the tip of it up cutting her cheek before he lowered it leaning forward to lick the blood off her face. She brought her knee up into his groin punching him as hard as she could manage in the throat before sucking in her breath and turning to run.

All she could think of was to run as far and as fast as she could manage paying no attention to where she was going. She paced herself as she went keeping a keen ear out for sounds of her being followed. She stopped finally panting about twenty feet from her apparent destination. Again the memories of Richie seemed to have been at the fore and she looked in horror as she found herself staring down the gangplank onto Mac's barge.

"Shit." She cursed gasping for her breath.

Richie may have trusted Mac and ran to him for help during trouble but she didn't trust him he had killed Richie after all whatever the circumstances. She looked heavenward for inspiration as she stood there, knowing she had to get onboard for safety's sake. Movement caught her eye on the deck and she watched with a sinking stomach as Methos and Mac came topside looking over at her as they approached the side of the boat that the gangplank would lead her to.

"Keaira?" Methos said in question, and she glanced at him before her frightened eyes lighted back on MacLeod.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She growled rubbing her sore throat.

"Keaira?" Mac asked voice filled with concern as he moved towards her and she held her shaking hand up motioning for him to stop, which he thankfully did.

"I _so_ do not want to be here." She said more to her self then them unfortunately they heard.

"So why did you come?" Methos asked her.

"Because I was attacked and running for my fucking life. Wasn't paying much attention to where I was going, was just running on impulse. Here I am." She grumbled hands held wide.

"Please, come inside, tell us what happened." Mac offered her.

"Much as Richie trusted you Mac, I'm not sure I can all things considered. Millennial demon or not, I recall very clearly losing my head to you after two previously whacked out attempts." She told him burying the guilt when she saw him flinch at her words.

"Keaira." Methos said voice full of unreadable emotion. Reaching out she grabbed the rails of the gangplank and forced her self to take a step forward onto it glancing up at Methos who nodded at her encouragingly. She shook her head sighing disgustedly at herself when that seemed to help and she took two more steps forward.

Eventually they got her onboard and inside Methos sitting her down in the couch after he cleaned up the cut on her face. Duncan got them all beers but she just sat staring at it in her hand as they sat waiting for her to tell them what happened.

"When I was thirteen I made national headlines." She said in an emotionless voice. "A man had broken into our home and killed my adopted parents. I attacked him while he was killing my father his back to me…I beat him to death with a bat. Apparently I should have severed his head to finish the job." She said glancing up at them looking at her in surprise. "He was outside Joe's. He attacked me." She explained.

"He just happened to be outside Joe's?" Mac asked.

"If you believe that I've got a bridge in Brooklyn I'll sell you." She told him without humor.

"You can't be alone." Methos said stating the obvious she felt rolling her eyes. She knew the words from Mac were coming but she still flinched at the idea when they did.

"You can stay here." Mac offered her and she flinched looking over at him in disbelief.

"In case you haven't noticed Mac I can barely stand to be in the same room with you right now. No way am I going to stay here with you." She told him sternly.

"I have a spare room." Methos replied and she looked over at him opening her mouth to complain. Stopping she glanced over at Mac then back at him realizing what her choices were she shut her mouth with an audible snap.

"Fine, we just need to stop at my hotel for my things." She told him.

Which was how she ended up standing in Methos spare room in his apartment undeniably pleased the place was new to her, and to Richie. No ghosts to rear up their heads at the very sight of the walls and rooms or the items therein. She sighed looking over the room and telling her self it was far too early to claim she was going to bed, she couldn't hide in the room all night. In the other room though Methos waited and while he'd been quiet up until this point she knew that once he started she wouldn't be able to get him to stop.

Going into her backpack she pulled out a leather journal and fingered it in thought a wicked smile on her face. If she took it out with her and started making an entry he'd leaver her alone for the time being and maybe she could avoid the whole bloody scene for one more night. So grabbing up her pen she took the book with her as she opened the door and walked out into the living room. Methos was in the kitchen as she pulled out the chair and sat at the end of the table farthest away opening up the book and starting her latest entry.

Methos only interrupted her to enquire about whether or not she wanted Chinese takeout for dinner and she complied picking out a few things off the menu. She killed about ten minutes filling out three pages in her diary and she sat back in her seat with a sigh. Methos was over in the living room now in a throne like chair by the couch and she was aware of his eyes on her.

"Ready to talk now?" He asked her softly and she looked over at him in irritation.

"As if I've really got a choice? Can't avoid you now…can I?" She asked him rolling her eyes as she held her hands out motioning to their living situation.

"You could've stay in your room." He told her.

"_That_…would be rude." She said smiling over at him to show she had in fact considered it if only for a moment.

"I am sorry about earlier." Methos told her sincerely.

"I know…lets just…not."

"Still don't want to talk about it." He stated more then asked her.

"It happened, your sorry…what else is there to say?" She asked with a shrug.

"That you're angry…hurt…confused." Methos said motioning with his arm that there were a broad number of options.

"You already know that, so again what is there to talk about?" She asked with a shrug.

"How about us…getting to know each other." Methos offered her.

"I'm not him Methos." She told him in a tired voice assuming that was why he was trying to get close to her and knowing she was right.

"I realize that." Methos told her in a confident voice.

"Do you? Do you really? Because honestly, sometimes…even I don't." She told him her voice sounding thinner then she'd like and she sighed tiredly.

"Then I'll remind you." He told her and she smiled to herself.

"Promise?" She asked him

"On my word." He said sincerely.

"We'll see." She said softly mostly to herself though he heard.

The food arrived and saved her from any more 'getting to know each other' as they ate finding herself to be surprisingly hungry. Methos seemed content to leave things as they were and allow her to eat in peace for which she was grateful. After eating she said goodnight and made her way to her room changing into her pajamas before going into the bathroom with her night bag and getting ready for bed. She drifted off to sleep in bed clinging to the spare pillow as she buried her face into it.

All he could think about was Joe, helping Joe before something happened to the fragile mortal. Seeing Horton of all people holding a gun to his head in the car before they drove off had sent his heart pounding. He'd sent a frantic call to Mac to give him a heads up before heading off after them hoping praying he'd be there in time to help. Unfortunately he was but not to help the person he wanted.

The damn racetrack was a maze in the dark as he followed sounds of footsteps and Joe's muffled cursing sword in his hands. He started to feel he was being led around in circle's wondering what the hell was going on now with Mac. This whole thing was just too weird and unexplainable, so much more so then it usually got with Mac. Unfortunately like so many times in the past it didn't occur to him that he should be extra careful of his own neck considering his history.

His heart was pounding in his chest sweat trickling in the most uncomfortable of places as he walked sword en guard. A voice inside his head told him that Methos would have a lot of scathing remarks for him after this but even the thought of his lover's ire wouldn't stop him from trying to do **something** to help Joe. How many times had Joe been there for him, saved his ass, and his neck?

So he kept going despite the feeling in his gut that told him something was very not right. When during these times when Mac's enemies crept out of the dark was anything right anyways? Ignoring the feeling he pushed on ahead trying in vain to find Joe and save him from this new and/or old enemy. What he didn't realize was the he was the one in trouble the one who was in need of saving and this time **no one** would get there in time.

The play of shadows and light around him was eerie giving the effect of being watched by shadows, of course how was Richie to know he really was being watched by those shadows. He moved sword lowered turning to find MacLeod bearing down on him sword in hand. It was a familiar sight far more familiar then he'd liked. It was a simple matter of bringing up his sword to defend him self too simple, to stop the blow. When he tried to move to do so his mind screamed eyes widening briefly before the blade rose and fell.

"No! Mac!" She screamed shooting up in bed. Hand at her throat as nausea assaulted her she raced out of the room and into the bathroom just in time to bend over the toilet and deposited her dinner. When she finished she was shivering hand still at her throat the remembered feel of a blade slicing threw it still far too clear. Knees pulled against her as she sat on the bathroom floor she rocked herself repeating her mantra unknowingly out loud. "Not my life. Not my life. Not my life. Not my life." She repeated trying to push the images from her mind. "Not my fucking life." She growled.

She started when she felt the hands on her shoulder and body pressed against her back she refrained from attacking him in reaction and tried to pull away. He wouldn't let her go and she mewled despite herself as she fought more violently to get free. Eventually she'd worn herself out and was panting bonelessly as Methos pulled her back into his arms and she tried to block out the feeling. She was too afraid to let him comfort her fearing she'd fall in and loose herself to the memory's there.

He picked her up and carried her into her room lying them down in the bed under the covers. He pulled her up against him soothing her back with small circles and she flashed back on something a memory of him soothing Richie after his nightmares in this way. She bucked violently catching him off guard as she pushed him away and out of his arms nearly knocking him off the bed before throwing herself out of it.

"I'm not fucking, Richie!" She cried before running into the bathroom and slamming the door leaning back against it. She panted trying to still the sobs and then just muffle them banging her head back against the door and knowing she might have over reacted just a tad. It was just so hard she couldn't deal with everything else while dealing with Methos it just made it all so difficult. That was when she realized it and sighed deeply slamming her head back into the door hard. "I never should have come to Paris."

"Too late for that regret now though, isn't it?" Adam asked her and she looked at the door in surprise. She realized he must have been sitting on the other side of it to have heard her so clearly and been heard as clearly.

"Can't you just…give me some space?" She asked him in exasperation.

"It would appear not." He told her and she sighed before standing up and opening the door to stare at him standing up to face her.

He reached out and offered her his hand making her look up at in him question raising a brow. "Please let me try and comfort you. I have an idea what your nightmare was and anyone would need a little comfort after something like that." He told her and she sighed looking away. He wasn't wrong some comfort sounded ideal coming from him it was both a plus and a minus. She was so completely torn so he made her mind up for her. Grabbing her hand he led her back to the bedroom and back to her bed climbing in with her again this time settling her on his shoulder while he held her. Sighing and trying not to really think about anything she relaxed eventually and fell asleep.

She slept hard and solidly waking up around noon to the smell of breakfast being cooked. After recalling last night she was very happy to find herself alone sure Methos had done that on purpose. She forced herself not to wonder how long he'd lain with her telling herself she didn't care…not really. So getting up and dressing she made her way out just as Methos was dishing up the food motioning her to the table.

Breakfast was a silent affair mostly filled with eating as she wondered just what they were going to do today. This wasn't exactly normal for her though it was slightly for Richie she was trying to avoid picking at his memories and dragging herself under their weight again. So she pondered the day silently while eating hoping they'd end up at the bar instead of the Barge but knowing how unlikely it was. She didn't know why accept maybe because it was Mac's space but she felt very unsafe there at the moment.

So she was unsurprised when she was told to be ready to go to Mac's in a half an hour sighing. She went to the spare room to gather herself for a moment before joining him when it was time to go. They were about three feet from the car when Methos stilled sharply looking around when he pushed her behind him she turned shucking in a sharp breath. Her parent's killer walking towards them her eyes widening as he pulled a gun and fired it at them.

Methos took two direct hits the force of the blows spinning him around to face her blood and gore covering his front as he teetered there in front of her.

"Run." He rasped before falling to his knees and she backpedaled frantically to obey him.

"Run and he looses his _head_." Growled the Immortal stopping her in her tracks. Methos threw her a frustrated agonized look before falling flat on his face and dying. With a handful of hair her captor dragged her to a van parked in the lot throwing her inside so hard she hit the far wall with her head and blacked out. She floated near consciousness as she was lifted and thrown over someone's shoulder and carried somewhere before being dropped like a sack of potatoes.

She groaned rolling with the far and cracking her eyes open her stomach dropping at the sight of the dungeon looking walls around her. She swallowed thickly and tried not to recall the sounds of him massacring her parents dying bodies knowing it would only send her into a panic. So she focused on controlling her breathing and trying to just take everything one step at a time. Like the fact that her immortal captor was approaching her with something in his hands that looked like a cross between a collar and a belt. She was familiar with its use and went into a panicked struggled as he tried to put it on her until he finally backhanded her hard.

As soon as it was on he started to tighten it slowly so at first she only had slight trouble breathing until she could barely breath and then...not at all. The smile on his face as he watched told her just how much he enjoyed her struggles for air. The pain in her throat and burning in her lungs almost more then she could stand as her eyes began to water and get hazy. She couldn't help the instinctive struggles even though she knew it wouldn't help her, her face beginning to numb.

Blackness threatened the corner of her visions black spots appearing as unconsciousness threatened. Finally just as she was sure he was going to sit there and watch her pass out he loosened enough for her to get some air. Coughing she tried to force herself to take slow controlled breaths now that she was finally allowed to breathe. Just when she was starting to get her breathing under control she was pulled to her knees while her captor stood looking down on her.

"I think I'll have to kill you soon, I don't like my women too old." He said looking her over thoughtfully her mind really at the words and refusing to contemplate them at the moment.

His hands went to his zipper and she pulled back getting swiftly kicked in the face. When he pulled me back upright I was face to face with his hard member one hand around the bit of leather on my throat. Using the leather to control her he forced himself into her mouth and she considered biting him…for a moment. Mostly she just focused on her breathing and gag reflex, as she didn't think he'd take well to being puked on.

When he came she did her best not to swallow but he forced himself so far into her mouth it was hard. She gagged spitting it out when he pulled away and trying to catch her breath as she kneeled there. Suddenly there was the sharp sting of his leather belt on her back and she pulled back instinctively before curling up to protect her soft spots hands over her head. When he finally stopped she was throbbing all over in pain hissing when he yanked up by her arm, which was also covered in welts.

He pushed her against a table bending her over it as he yanked off her pants and underwear. She was appalled to feel his erecting against her naked backside unbelievably hard so soon. Then he was ripping threw her painfully and she was clenching her jaw determined to just lay there quietly and take it, not wanting to give him the pleasure of hearing her cry's of pain. It hurt though in more ways then one and when he finally cried out coming inside her she felt like something inside her had been soiled and in a way it had.

When she came to she was naked and alone on the floor and she slowly painfully pulled on her underwear and jeans. She sat herself down in the corner farthest from the door as if this would in any way protect her when the immortal returned to her. She nearly sobbed when Adam was the one to open the door she saw Death in his eyes again as he took in her battered form before carefully helping her up.

"Mac's taking care of him." Methos told her and she didn't need to ask who.

"He's good at that." She replied nodding as she held uncomfortably still for him while he took off the collar.

"Can't tell if your happy about that or not." Methos commented as he slowly led them towards the door.

"At the moment fucking deliriously ecstatic." She murmured. "How'd you find us so fast?" She asked him.

"Apparently he'd taken out an immortal before tracking us down. The other Watcher followed him saw him dragging you back to his car and followed him." Methos explains.

"Finally a bit of luck." She muttered more to her self then him.

"Keaira, are…are you okay?" He asked her worriedly.

"Once I get the hell outta this place I will be." She assured him. So leading her to his car Methos helped her in calling Joe to give him the low down before driving her to his apartment. After Methos cleaned her up she went to bed and passed out sleeping heavily and surprisingly soundly.

She woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast and the sound of light chatter. Sounded like Mac and Joe where there probably to make sure she was okay and sighing she sat up painfully. Her welts looked worse today more colorful and severe changing she grabbed her things and slipped into the bathroom after a quick morning to the gang. She tried to ignore the looks of surprise from Joe and Mac who hadn't seen her the night before sighing once she was behind the closed door.

She ate quietly listening to the men talk occasionally answering a question from Joe or Mac as they tried to make an attempt not to leave her out. Methos seemed to understand she wasn't interested in the conversation and left her alone to eat. Afterwards they sat in the living room with their coffee and she knew that the time had come.

"He told me he was going to kill me so I wouldn't age anymore." She said staring down into her mug aware of the sound of Joe's gasp. "I'm pre-immortal aren't I?" She asked looking at Mac and Methos.

They looked at each other a deeply troubled look on their faces and she sighed disgustedly thinking that was almost answer enough but she wanted more. "Let me put it this way, she I'd be taking an interest in swordplay?" She asked them archly.

"Mac could help you with that." Methos said and clearly that was all they would say on the subject. Sighing she rested her head back on the sofa unable to believe the turn her life had suddenly taken.

"I always knew there was a chance once I realized it was true. Orphan and all that couple with the whole Richie thing…fuck." She muttered.

"So need help finding a place?" Joe asked her and she sighed.

"You could stay here." Methos offered her and she looked over at him.

"No thanks but I'd prefer my own place." She told him. "I'd love your help Joe." She said smiling over at the man.

"Sure thing Hun." Joe told her with a smile and a wink making her laugh. So they began making plans for her move to a new country and to a new life.

She had her first nightmare that night the only reason she didn't wake Methos because she'd been reliving being choked by the collar and couldn't scream in her nightmare. So she'd started breakfast that morning the only question Methos asked was about how she'd slept and he'd left it at that for which she was very thankful. She only got a few hours the next night when she woke up on the floor in a ball dreaming about that damn belt. She feigned sleep so Methos wouldn't question her about it getting up when she smelled him cooking breakfast.

She didn't sleep the next night and she was sure Methos knew something was up but he still wasn't saying anything. After that the next night she fell in a heavy sleep only to awaken three hours later fighting so fiercely in the bed she knocked a lamp off the nightstand. Methos came in hair messy with sleep looking concerned as she huddled on the bed rocking. Cuddling beside her in bed he held her like it did the other night until she started to slowly relax.

"We're going to have to do something about this." Methos told her softly.

"And what would you suggest?" She asked not even bothering pretending not to know what he was referring to.

"Well I'd suggest talk about what happened that night…" Methos started only to stop and wrap his arms around her when she stiffened intent to pull away. "But I knew you'd refuse so I'd suggest this. What we are doing now. Only instead of waking me up screaming of breaking things we sleep in the same bed so I can try and pull you out of them." He told her.

"I don't know." She said not sure she liked the sound of that option either.

"Just sleeping and nothing at all sexual Keaira. I promise." He assured her. Sighing deeply Keaira closed her eyes knowing it was only inevitable and nodded her head.

It was almost a month later when it happened well into her endurance training with Mac. He planned to work on her endurance and strength before moving on to the swordplay. She usually came home tired and sore going so far as to accept a few massages from Methos before passing out for the night. They slept in his bed more often then not ended up cuddling even if she didn't have a nightmare. This night she did have one but instead of waking up from it, it turned into a waking nightmare as she watched unable to do anything else.

_He sat up with a gasp heart pounding in his chest as he panted for breath. Sweat dripped off him as he blinked letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before looking down at the companion in bed with him and smiling. It was obvious in that one facial expression that he was unequivocally in love with the man. Reaching out he carded his fingers threw the man's hair before cupping the cheek in his hand and leaning forward he gently kissed his lips. Moaning as the kiss drew him from sleep the man wholeheartedly returned it before his eyes opened in surprise and he sat up eyes wide._

_"Richie! How?" Methos asked voice full of awe amazement and no small amount of sadness._

_"Shh." Richie said reaching out to put his hand over Methos' lips. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth old man." He told him warmly._

_"But your…" Methos said his sentence running off as if he were afraid the very words would break this spell._

_"Here now, with you." Richie assured him. "And I've missed you so much."_

_"Oh god, Richie." Methos moaned latching onto him arms pulling him to him tightly as his lips sought out Richie's mouth._

_Their passion burned bright together as they kissed and lossed themselves in that moment. Hands everywhere as mouths roamed necks before returning for another searing kiss. Panting they were pressed together hard and ready and Richie groaned as Methos rocked his hardness against him._

_"Please Methos." Richie pleaded him._

_"What Rich?" Methos asked him in a husky breath._

_"Make love to me." He pleaded every ounce of his feelings in the words._

_"Richie?" Methos said pulling back a little voice unsure._

_"Please Methos, this is our only chance. My biggest regret, please help me set it right. Please, love." Richie begged him in a haggard voice._

_"I could never say no to you, my love." Methos assured him hand reaching over to dig into the nightstand withdrawing some lube. Richie opened up to him almost naturally while Methos prepared him slowly and gently._

_Finally Methos was slipping Richie's legs over his shoulders leaning into kiss him deeply as he slowly slid inside him. Richie groaned at the burning sandpaper feeling as he was stretched as Methos filled him up slowly until sliding home. He felt almost impossibly filled moaning in pleasure as Methos began trailing kisses down his neck free hand going to his weeping erection to slowly milk it. Slowly carefully Methos began to move inside of him the muscles inside of him adjusting to the intrusion as he relaxed letting the pleasure wash over him._

_"So beautiful." Methos whispered huskily into his ear. "Oh gods love, I miss you." He said voice breaking as he began to pick up speed._

_Richie reached up to touch him trying to sooth that ache while he could trying to touch and caress him everywhere. Mouths locking again moaning into the kiss neither was aware of which one had made the noise or if it was both. Speed and power of the thrusts increased the sounds of flesh slapping loud in the room as both mean worked together towards completion. Finally crusting the ridge together they both cried out as they came together as one, one last time._

She woke in the bed naked sore and in a state of shock having been aware durring the entire thing. Methos was out cold and she slipped carefully out of the bed before disappearing in her room. When she slipped out she had her duffel bag filled and was dressed to leave. She paused only to place a piece of paper on the fridge three hand written words on it. Without looking back she opened the door locking it behind her with the key Adam had given her before leaving.

She rented a room for the night on the other side of the city under a different name. Showering she called for tickets for a one-way trip to California before collapsing on her bed to cry her eyes out. She railed at the world but mostly she railed at Methos…and Richie. They had used her and what was worse Methos had broken his word to her. All she could think about now was getting the hell away from him and everything that made her think of them both.

Methos woke stretching and feeling rested and refreshed trying to remember why he was feeling so damn good. Then he realized he shouldn't be in bed alone, Keaira should be in bed with him unless she'd had another nightmare or a dream about Rich. Then he remembered last night sitting upright as he tried to recall if it had been a dream. He threw his feet over the side of the bed only to step on something and looked down at the floor his stomach dropping at the sight of the lube under his foot.

His mind raced a million mile's per hour as he slid into a pair of jeans and moved out of the room opening Keaira's bedroom door without knocking. It didn't matter it was empty of not just her but anything she owned no cloths in the closet or drawers. He moved out into the living room suddenly aware of how quiet it was...he was alone. Keaira had clearly gone and didn't intend to stay with him any more.

What happened last night confused the hell out of him. It had been dark and he'd been half awake but he clearly remembered the feel of Richie under him a _man_ and not a woman. Bringing his hand up to his face he smelled it feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. It didn't smell like Richie, it's smelled like female sex and he almost fell to his knees at the realization.

Turning to the fridge fora beer he opened it and pulled it out yanking the top off and standing there guzzling the entire thing before moving to grab another. That's when the note caught his eye in distinctly feminine handwriting he recognized as Keaira's neat scrawlmarkedly unsigned. With a shaky hand he pulled it off burning the three words into his mind as he stared at it. How could you…it said and Methos was unaware he fell to his knees then knowing he'd lost her. She hadn't just left him, she'd left town he knew she did because how could she not? He would.

The End…or is it?


End file.
